Kiss Me Twice Part 1 Page 4
Roller derby was the one bit of strength that I’d been able to hold on to when my life fell apart... quite simply, when I didn’t have any backbone of my own left, I would absorb some from one of my teammates, cause the kind of girls who gravitated toward derby were fierce.
Today, with the unease that Meg’s situation had left settling heavy in my bones, I figured I’d do the same. Borrow some strength from my team, and push myself physically until I couldn’t think about anything else.
After leaving the coffee shop earlier, I’d pulled my sleeves back down, covering my tattoos, and now I was hyperaware of the ink as I fiddled with the zipper of my hoodie. Derby was typically the one place where I took that sweater off and just settled into my own skin, but tonight my fingers didn’t want to pull that zipper down.
I can’t let him run my life, now can I?
Meg’s words echoed through my head. She’d been talking about herself, but she might as well have been referring to me.
“Fuck it.” Dorian and Mal had helped nudge me into the light, but I wasn’t so damaged that I couldn’t see that I needed to take some steps on my own. Sucking in a deep breath, I unzipped the hoodie and, before I could think twice, started to peel it down my arms.
“Have I told you lately how much I love sexy redheads with tattoos and roller skates?” The voice in my ear startled me, making me jump, but before I could lash out like I did with Meg, my brain registered the sexy as hell accent, the familiar sensation of strong hands stroking up and down my upper arms.
Dorian. I hadn’t seen him or Mal all day, and just breathing the same air as one of my guys made me relax.
“You have a thing for roller skates, period.” Turning in his arms, I couldn’t help but grin as Dorian smirked, not even trying to deny it.
“True enough, pet. But contrary to what you believe, it’s got to be you in them.” Sliding his hands down my arms, he traced fingers over the soft fleece of my hoodie, which was bunched up at my wrists.
“Take this shirt off. Don’t hide.” His eyes darkened, and I felt my own vision blur a bit with need, a reaction I was still coming to grips with.
A girl with rape in her past should have run from a man who wanted control over her. At least, that was what logic told me. But logic didn’t know how it felt to hand all of my fear and neuroses over to my guys for a finite period of time—no, to have them just take it.
It was freeing in a way I never imagined it could be. And while I still puzzled over that, still struggled with it, I still found myself giving in.
“Is that an order?” Even though I craved the mindlessness that came with giving up control, I couldn’t resist pushing back a bit.
Mal and Dorian had yet to do anything I’d consider super kinky—and Fifty Shades of Grey and subsequent novels that had landed on my tablet had shown me an entire world of dark desires. And the taste I’d had, and what it let me escape had acted like a gateway drug—I wanted more.
Pushing back a little bit was the only way I knew to let them know that.
My question was fairly innocent when it formed in my head, but seeing the wickedness flash through Dorian’s eyes, I knew that I’d succeeding at poking the bear.
“Do you want it to be an order, Adele?” He let go of me, stepped back, and I mourned the loss of connection. “If you do, then you’d better follow it.”
Keeping my eyes on his, I pulled my hands through the sleeves of my hoodie, baring my ink. It was so much easier to do, now that he had told me to do it, simply because he had taken that choice away from me.
I tossed the hoodie toward the warm-up bench, lowering my eyes as I did. And then I promptly squeaked as Dorian cupped my ass in possessive hands, and hauled me right off my feet for a demanding kiss.
“Uh.” My brain turned to mush as, without preamble, he demanded that I open for him with one firm thrust of his tongue. I did, sinking into the kiss, giving as good as I got.
The stroke of his thumbs over the place where my tiny spandex skate shorts gave way to bare skin sent a wave of heat through me. Burying my hands in his thick, spiky hair, I moaned into his mouth and wrapped my legs around his waist.
“Get it!” Catcalls and whistles erupted from the makeshift rink, and I tore my mouth free, struggling against Dorian’s grip to look behind me at my teammates.
Most of them were grinning, giving me enthusiastic thumbs up. But when I caught Nina, my captain, gazing at me curiously, I felt myself stiffen, the insides that Dorian just managed to melt freezing once again.
I knew what she was thinking. Mal had been at practice last night, and I’d been kissing him. Not able to hold back the wince, I waited for the taunts, the whispered slut name calling.
I’d lived through it before. That was what happened when you were assaulted and pictures were plastered all over Facebook.
But it didn’t mean it was something I ever wanted to go through again. I was stronger now... but I wasn’t sure I was that strong.
Braced for the worst, I couldn’t do much but blink in surprise when Nina simply winked at me, casting a crooked grin of approval my way.
“When you’re done molesting your hottie there, Adele, we’ve got some warm-ups to start.” Pushing off with her right foot, she skated off, calling back over her shoulder. “Not that I blame you! Damn, girl!”
I expected to hear Dorian laugh—he always found it a bit ridiculous when he was admired. And the female population of this college town admired him plenty. But when I turned back to him, it wasn’t amusement that I saw on his face.
“I see I need to occupy your mind a little bit more.” Holding me tightly against him, he slid me down his body until my feet hit the ground, and by the time they did I was panting.
The man had an amazing body—and he’d just made me aware of every last, hard inch of it.
He released me, and the skin of my thighs was cold in the absence of his heat. But then he spoke, and I was hot all over.
“I think you need to be punished for the thoughts that just went through your head.” I knew he was referring to my worry that I was about to be called a slut.
But... holy hell. Punishment?
We’d never ventured that far. But when I looked up into those crazy beautiful green eyes of my rock star, I found myself absolutely, entirely into the idea.
“What... what do you mean?” I licked my suddenly dry lips, and Dorian’s stare followed the movement. I suddenly felt like a mouse corned by a very large, very sexy cat.
“While you skate tonight, I want you to think about the fact that I’m watching your every move. I’m watching your amazing tits jiggle when you jump, and I’m watching your muscles gleam as you sweat. I’m watching your sweet little heart shaped ass and thinking about how much I want it.”
How much he wants it?
Surely he didn’t t mean what that sounded like.
“I want you to think about the fact that with every move you make out there, I’m thinking up ten million ways to fuck you. To drive you wild.”
Oh my God. The wicked curve of his lips told me that he was absolutely serious—with every move I made tonight, he was going to be picturing me naked. And knowing that made me instantly, insanely wet.
How the hell was I supposed to get through practice now?
“Now you understand.” Dorian grinned, then patted me on the ass, not unlike the way Meg had earlier. “You have to get through practice with these dirty little thoughts in your head. No skipping out early or I won’t make good on my promises. And every time your thighs rub together and you know I’m watching you crave release, think about this. Think about the fact that if you hadn’t doubted yourself, I’d have you under the bleachers with your legs around my neck, no matter who the hell was around.”
A whimper escaped my lips, and he grinned, the evil, twisted bastard.
“Now go. Have fun.” Helpfully he nudged me toward the rink, where my team was whirling in an eye popping stream of color. I had no choice but to join them,
and with every smooth stride I took, I could feel Dorian’s gaze like a caress between my legs.
I was hyperaware of my man throughout practice, even though the drills were brutal. Knowing that Dorian had a serious fetish for derby girls didn’t help matters... no, it actually just made me think of the times he’d teased about taking me while I was wearing nothing but the skates.
Basically, I was a quivering, needy mess by the time practice was done. My need was a physical ache, an emptiness between my legs that I would have done pretty much anything to have my guys fill... including try my damndest to not give a shit whether people think I was a slut or not.
“Hi.” I skated right up to Dorian as soon as Nina gave the okay to leave. My skates brought me high enough that I could nuzzle his mouth without stretching, but I didn’t trust myself to stop with just a kiss.
Forcing myself away from him, I reached for my discarded sweatshirt as my teammates clattered around, removing their own skates, heading for the door. I squeaked when I felt hands grabbing my wrists and pinning them behind me.
“You’d better not be thinking of putting that shirt on, baby.” Dorian hauled me against him and growled into my ear. Nina quite clearly pretended not to see or hear as she skated around the gym, picking up the obstacles we’d used during our final drill, laughter making her shoulders shake.
I melted back against Dorian, inhaling the intensely sexy scent of his cologne. “What happens if I am?”
Terrible excitement flared inside of me as, without speaking, Dorian again lifted me right off my feet, carrying me under the bleachers.
Think about the fact that if you hadn’t doubted yourself, I’d have you under the bleachers with your legs around my neck.
Oh, my.
Slamming himself back against the wall the second we were mostly hidden from sight then rolling so it was my back to the wall, Dorian clasped my thigh, pulled it around his hip. The wheels of my skate were digging into his ass, but he didn’t seem to care—and when he pressed his hips against me lewdly, showing me how very much he wanted me, I found that I didn’t much care, either.
But instead of reaching for the expected places, instead of giving me the relief that I was dying for, Dorian gently clasped one of my wrists, and then the other, bracketing them with his fingers. Tucking my arms between our bodies, he freed one hand, using it to trace over the riot of ink on my skin.
“This skin is gorgeous. I want you to show it off.” There was more than command in his voice—there was need, desire, and something more.
It nearly undid me, moving the ache from between my legs into my heart.
“I—” I didn’t have any words, but I did respond, my body taking up where the words left me. I melted into Dorian, wondering how it was that he and Mal always seemed to know what I needed.
Dorian was more dominant than Mal, though Mal was still plenty bossy—if he were here right now, he’d have been following Dorian’s lead. But maybe that was why this quirky relationship worked for me.
It took two of them, but together they overcame my fears.
I didn’t know what I’d do if I ever lost one of them. Just losing one would be like ripping out my heart.
At a loss for words, I stared into Dorian’s eyes. This was one of those moments where I didn’t need to borrow anyone’s strength, because knowing he and Malachi had my back made my own easy to grab on to.
“I won’t wear the sweatshirt anymore.” I cringed as the words left my lips, knowing how hard this was going to be for me. I’d gotten these tattoos to stand out, the very opposite of what I wanted now.
But between Meg’s comments on them this morning, and Dorian’s insistence, it seemed like maybe the universe was trying to tell me something. So I bucked up and looked Dorian in the eye, letting him know I was serious.
Smiling, he brushed his lips over my forehead, then set me down on my feet. I wobbled a bit on my skates, a true testament to what I was feeling, because I’d been skating since I’d learned to walk.
His hand caught mine, and when his thumb circled my palm, the movement deliberately seductive, the heat from my promised punishment returned.
“Let’s go home.” Dorian’s voice, that whiskey and sin rasp that made girls toss their underpants at his head, made me dampen my own.
I didn’t waste any time, but followed him right out the door without even taking my skates off.
If he had his way—and he would—then I probably wouldn’t have to.
Chapter Three
MALACHI
I made it home from class—and by home I meant Adele’s condo— just before Adele and Dorian. I was pulling a can of beer from the fridge when they came through the front door.
Even if I hadn’t been expecting them, I’d have known Dorian was there, because Humper let loose with an ear-splitting squall of excitement and made a beeline across the room.
“Filthy minded beastie.” Warily eyeing the cat who was now circling him, Dorian toed off his Converse high tops and flipped one across the room. Humper chased after it, purring like he’d found his long lost love. And he had—his long standing affair with Dorian’s shoes was how he’d gotten his name.
I couldn’t help but snicker, and Adele with me, as we watched Humper begin to caress the green canvas with his paw. Dorian crinkled his nose with disgust.
“Every time.” He shook his head. Beside him, Adele—who was still wearing those little spandex shorts she had for derby practice and her skates—gave me a distinctly come-hither look, while running her hand up and down Dorian’s arm.
Well. Adele feeling frisky certainly made my own crappy mood start to dissipate. Especially when Dorian caught her hand in his and turned her, giving me a stellar view of her ass in those little shorts.
“I think we need to talk first, baby.” Dorian pressed a kiss to Adele’s forehead, then flicked a quick glance my way.
Fuck. Seeing Emma had made me completely forget about Dorian’s news.
Adele eyed Dorian warily then turned to cast me the same suspicious look. I tried to keep my expression blank, but she narrowed her eyes, pointing a finger first at me, then at him.
“Cough it up, men folk. Dorian made me some promises that I thoroughly intend to cash in on.” She glided over to an easy chair and, sitting, started to remove her skates. Dorian and I both groaned with protest as she did, and she gave us a dirty look.
“Promises?” I looked at Dorian, intrigued. He was a filthy fucker with a never-ending imagination, and I had to say that I loved it, even when the fact that I loved it scared the shit out of me.
He grinned back at me, even though I could see a hint of concern in his eyes. “She’s been a bad girl. She needs a spanking.”
Adele rolled her eyes, tugging off one skate, but I noted the quick intake of her breath, the flush that spread across her creamy skin.
My cock swelled, pressing against my jeans. I’d never thought about things like dominance and submission before I’d met Dorian. And it wasn’t something that consciously ran through my mind when I was with them, not unless he brought it up.
But if he wanted to arrange things so that they were hotter for Adele? Yeah, I could get down with that. She was our centre.
But we’d never gone very deep into it, and his comment about spanking, combined with Adele’s reaction surprised me.
But if Adele wanted it, then I was game. Anything that took her out of her own head was good, in my opinion.
“Stop distracting me.” A hint of a rasp crept into Adele’s tone and I knew it meant she was aroused.
I wanted to pick her up and arrange her legs around my waist. But a warning glance from Dorian told me that now wasn’t the time.
Sighing, he flopped down on the couch beside me, and I didn’t miss the way his arm brushed against mine. Damn it. I shouldn’t have even noticed something like that.
“Come here, love.” Dorian moved over, giving me a bit of space, and patted the cushion between us. Adele eyed it, eyed us, a
nd slowly shook her head.
“Why do I think I’m not going to like this?” Her arms wrapped around herself as she spoke, her hands instinctively moving to cover the colorful ink on her arms. I wondered if she knew she did that, every time she felt insecure.
But she wasn’t completely withdrawing. It may not have seemed like much to an outsider, but to me? It showed me just how far she’d come.
“Just hear him out.” This came from me, and I was surprised. Really... what was holding me back from taking this chance to make Dorian look bad? To make myself first in Adele’s affections?
Losing Dorian would devastate her, I knew it would, and I would never do anything to hurt her. But... it was more than that.
“Relax, pet.” Dorian wasn’t taking his own advice—I could see the tension in his muscles.
Why was I looking at his muscles?
“The band got some news today.” Dorian’s leg started bouncing up and down. Up, down. Jiggle, jiggle. I slammed my hand down on his knee to make him stop.
But then I was left with my hand on his knee, my fingers digging into the muscle of his thigh. I couldn’t quite read into the look he sent me, and chose instead to ignore it, snatching my hand away.
I looked down at my fingers as Dorian laid out the situation to Adele.
And I almost jumped out of my skin when she screamed.
“What? What’s wrong?” My words overlapped Dorian’s. “What happened?”
And then Dorian and I watched our quirky woman start to do some kind of touchdown dance around the living room, shaking what her mama gave her in booty shorts and socks. She concluded the dance with a little bump and grind move in front of the two of us that had my cock demanding attention, even as I wanted to just gather her in my arms and nuzzle.
She was so damn cute.
“What?” She demanded when she finally stopped in front of us, laughing and out of breath. “This is awesome news! Dorian! This is your dream!” Clearly elated, she threw herself at us, wrapping her arms around us both at the same time and sending us tumbling down to the couch in an undignified pile.